Welcome to Acton
by DobbylovesWinky
Summary: Christine's life is finally settling down. She's back in school, working part time and speaking to her brother. There's also Kyle, the adorable new guy who might be crushing on her.    Then she gets shot, and her almost perfect life takes a strange turn.


**Author's Notes: Usual disclaimer, I do not own these characters, and the premise of this story should look pretty familiar too :) **

**For Roswell, this story is a major AU. I won't go into lengthy detail, but I've cut the royal clones storyline, changed the background of the aliens' arrival on earth and made all the characters at least half alien, including Kyle and Maria, who appear in this story.**

**For Amelia's characters, this is canon through the end of All Just Glass. The main focus is Christine Richards, the girl Kaleo tortured and bloodbonded. Happy reading. **

_March 14__th__ Journal entry 26 I'm Christine Richards, and last week I died. After that, things got really weird. Even weirder than my life already was._

"Order up, Christine. Table twelve."

Christine tucked her order book into her pocket and hurried to the order window, stopping to ask one of her tables if they needed drink refills. The answer, as always, was yes. She made a mental note as she picked up the burger combos for twelve.

Grill 'em Up was a great place to work, at least for a teenager in high school. The customers usually gave good tips, the hours were manageable and the management was decent. Which didn't mean every day went by like a breeze, to judge by how things were going for Tess.

The pixie blond shared a grimace with Christine at the drink counter. "Those guys at table nine are being so rude, I swear I'm putting the tip on the check."

Christine laughed as she filled a pitcher with cola. "You are bad, girl."

"You have no idea. And FYI, my delinquent brother is staring at you again."

A flush crept over Christine's cheeks, and she glanced over her shoulder toward the dark haired boy at the booth nearest the door. His eyes flicked toward her then returned to the boy sitting across from him. She'd never shared more than a few words with Kyle, but he seemed nice. "Tell me for a fact you know he's interested," she said, turning back to Tess.

"He asks about you," Tess collected four clean glasses from under the counter. "Which is totally guy code for 'I'm interested.'"

"Then why doesn't he talk to me."

Tess shrugged. "He's kind of shy. Why don't you talk to him?" She flashed a bright smile and swept back onto the floor with a tray full of drinks for table six. Christine considered the other girl's comment while she did the refills then checked on her other tables. Tess had Kyle and Michael's table, and Christine watched her chat with them. They always sat in Tess's section. Did a guy do that when he had a crush on a girl, avoid sitting at her assigned tables? Or did they just not want to tip?

Christine smiled to herself. Tess's complained about not getting tipped more than anything else. She and her family had moved to Acton in early January. No parents, just Tess, her brother and their two cousins, Michael and Maria. Apparently they planned to make as much money as possible, so they never needed to go back home.

Christine's happiness faded at the thought of going home. She would have liked nothing more.

"Forget it!" Glass breaking followed the shout and Tess screamed. Christine whirled around.

The two men at table nine were on their feet, black t-shirt towering over gray hair. Black t-shirt grabbed the older men's shirt collar and jerked him. "I came to get the money today!"

Gray hair whipped a gun out.

People screamed and ducked under tables, but Christine couldn't move. She stood frozen as the two men struggled over the gun, jerking it back and forth. She followed the barrel with her eyes until it pointed right at her.

The bang made her head ache. A force pounded into her stomach. Roaring filled her ears, and something slammed the back of her head. _I've been shot. _It didn't hurt as much as she imagined it would. A little burning, numbness and cold. Her pulse pounded in her head, softer and softer. _I'm sorry, Robert. _She wouldn't even get to say good-bye.

A face appeared over hers, a warm hand on the back of her neck. He lifted her head, and she recognized Kyle's grey-blue eyes.

"Christine, it's going to be okay." His face blurred.

She felt pressure on her stomach and warmth seeped into her. It tingled, then burned, and she almost cried out. Then it was over. No more burning, no more numbness. Her vision cleared, and Kyle's face swam back into focus.

"You'll be okay now." A flash of emotion went through his eyes, something like panic, or terror. He snatched a ketchup bottle of a shelf under the counter, and the bottom shattered. He dumped the contents over her uniform and tossed the bottle aside. "Please don't say anything." He ran.

Christine came unsteadily to her feet. Kyle shoved open the double doors to the street where Michael waited in a jeep. They took off, tires squealing.

People crawled out from under their tables, gaping at each other. Tess came toward Christine, a look of abject horror on her face. Her eyes locked onto Christine's ripped blouse. "What happened?"

The question sounded strange, as if Tess spoke a foreign language. Christine's eyes drifted back to the door, on the spot where Kyle had been. She touched her ketchup stained uniform and shuddered.

Christine groaned. She leaned forward and rubbed her head, wishing she could make everything disappear with such a simple action. She'd told her story too many times already, praying each time she wasn't changing bits and pieces. Maybe the officer wanted that, to catch her in a lie. But didn't they only do that to criminals?

A hand touched her shoulder and she lifted her head.

"Ma'am, I understand you've had a rough day," the officer said. "But I need to get this cleared up. Now you're certain you were not hit."

"I told you. When the gun went off, I fell and hit my head. I must have knocked the ketchup bottle off the counter and broke it."

"All right." He checked the notebook in his hand, likely confirming her story hadn't changed.

Christine suppressed a shiver. She knew why they kept asking. She'd seen the other officer searching near the drink counter for a bullet hole he would never find. She looked down at her uniform, at the blobby red stains against mint green, and her stomach lurched. "I need to go home." She got to her feet so fast she nearly cracked heads with the officer.

"Ma'am, please sit down. The ambulance is on its way. They'll take you in for observation."

Great. Observation, which probably meant blood work. At the very least, it meant poking and prodding, and more questions she didn't want to deal with. She shook her head. "I'm not going in any ambulance. I'm going home."

"Ma'am." His hands moved to her shoulders, and this time it was no gentle touch to get her attention.

Christine jerked away as black memories swept over her. Pressure on her arms, pain screaming through her body. The color red. Red tubes full of blood. Hospital smells and beeping. Nausea, bile sliding up her throat.

"No," she whispered. She had to get control of herself, otherwise he'd probably have them sedate her. She didn't know if sedatives would work, but she couldn't be sure. She took a deep breath and spoke in her steadiest tone. "Hospitals are against my religion. I need to go home."

The officer frowned and shook his head.

Before he could say a word, she went on, feeling firmer ground beneath her feet as her emotions came under control. "You can't keep me here. I've answered your questions, you have my contact information. Let me go."

His eyes hardened, and for a frightening moment Christine thought he really would try to force her to go. "Fine." He flipped his notebook closed. "We'll be in touch if we need any more information. Do you at least have someone who can give you a ride?"

"Yes," she lied. No sense giving him more fuel by admitting she would drive herself home. Freed, she dashed to the back for her coat and purse. Tess had already left, picked up by Maria. She been so wracked with sobs, Christine doubted she could have driven herself home.

Tess, Kyle's sister. Did that mean . . . ? Christine shook her head to clear her thoughts. Tess had mentioned once she was adopted. Maybe that meant whatever was going on with Kyle didn't affect her. Maybe she had no idea what her brother could do.

Christine gripped the steering wheel tighter and willed herself not to look at her uniform again. As soon as she got home, she would rip the thing off and throw in the garbage. No, burn it, so no one would see the bullet hole or the blood.

A quiver rolled through her at the reality of what had happened. She'd been shot in the stomach. She could have died. Kyle had saved her. He'd saved her life.

She pulled into the driveway in front of Nikolas's house and let her head drop to the steering wheel. She drew in deep breaths, feeling calm spread throughout her body. She could think later. Right now, she needed a long hot shower and a nap.

The front hallway was empty, and she prayed no one would be home.

"Christine?"

Nikolas's familiar southern drawl made her wince for the first time ever. "Hey," she answered, dropping her purse on the hall table.

He came from down the hall, hair tied back and charcoal staining his fingers. "I thought you worked until six."

"There was an incident."

Even as she spoke, his eyes widen at the state of her clothes. "I can see."

She tossed a hand in a casual gesture and turned away from him. "These two jerks got into a fight, one drew a gun, they fought over it and bang. Meanwhile, chicken that I am, I go to duck, slip and spill ketchup all over myself. I'm going to go clean up." The entire story poured out in rush, leaving her breathless as she turned to run upstairs.

Nikolas caught her arm in a gentle grip before she made it two steps. "I smell blood, Christine."

Her heart plummeted. She met his black eyes and knew he wouldn't fall for any lie she told. She opened her mouth, the real story on the tip of her tongue.

Kyle's face appeared in her mind and his plea resonated. He had saved her life.

She forced a startled on her face, which probably wasn't too far from her genuine expression. "I must have gotten nicked." She touched the uniform, pretending to examine it. "I guess it healed before I even noticed it."

Nikolas frowned. "Are you sure?"

She sighed, rubbing her neck. "I'm just really shaken up."

He nodded and released her. "Get some rest."

Thanking God or whatever higher power resided above, Christine raced up the stairs and straight to her room. As soon as the door closed behind her, she ripped the mint green blouse off and threw it toward her trashcan. She would deal with burning it later.

She moved toward her closet to find her most comfortable sweats and glimpsed herself in the full length mirror. She stiffened, one hand going to her stomach and turned slowly toward the image.

Over her belly button, right where she'd been shot, a silver handprint stained her skin, as surely as her own blood stained her blouse. "Oh, Kyle. What are you?"


End file.
